SYOT 69th Annual Hunger Games
by cakepopramen-chan
Summary: *open* It's the 69th Annual Hunger Games...will you survive? Please PM me to submit your tribute! Thanks!
1. Introduction

**SYOT 69****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

Hey guys! This is my first Hunger Games fanfiction, and for it, I'm making a SYOT. Please fill out all or as much as you can and PM me to participate in it! Thanks!

**Name:**

**Age: **

**Gender:**

**District (have a couple in mind just in case yours is taken):**

**Preferred weapon:**

**Backstory: **

**Appearance:**

**Personality: **

**Family:**

**Friends:**

**Alliances (yes or no):**

**Strengths:**

**Weaknesses:**

**Reaped or Volunteered:**

**Token:**

**Strategy:**

**Training score:**

**Personal session with Gamemakers:**

**Interview Angle:**

**Romance? (yes or no):**

**Anything else you want to add:**

**Don't be afraid to PM me with any questions you might have. Thanks for participating and may the odds be **_**ever**_** in your favor!**

Here's some reference for each district.

District 1-Luxury Items for the Capital

District 2-Masonry/Stonework

District 3- Electronics

District 4- Fishing

District 5- Power

District 6- Transportation

District 7- Lumber

District 8- Textiles

District 9- Grain

District 10- Livestock

District 11- Agriculture

District 12- Coal Mining


	2. Tribute Update

SYOT 69th Annual Hunger Games Tributes

**District 1 Boy: **Kotsuyo Koji

**District 1 Girl: **Emerald Grace

**District 2 Boy: **Richard Prince

**District 2 Girl: **Kat

**District 3 Boy: **Cloud

**District 3 Girl: **Thalia Thunderbolt

**District 4 Boy: **Maximus (Max) Salem

**District 4 Girl: **Sirus Lepage

**District 5 Boy: **Connor Skarth

**District 5 Girl: **Krystal Reymand

**District 6 Boy: **Jimmy Hanson

**District 6 Girl: **Chive Sae

**District 7 Boy: **Davis Porter

**District 7 Girl: **Shiloh Silverbark

**District 8 Boy:**

**District 8 Girl: **Adrenaline Spree

**District 9 Boy: **Farrow Tare

**District 9 Girl: **Naomi Tachi

**District 10 Boy: **Caspian Crane

**District 10 Girl: **Colleen Reyna

**District 11 Boy: **Clay Barines

**District 11 Girl: **Jasmine Afani

**District 12 Boy:**

**District 12 Girl:** Julia Wreve


	3. District 1 Reaping

**Hey guys! I really apologize for this being so late. It could've been out earlier, but I had homework and got lazy and…yeah. So I'm really excited (and nervous) to start writing the first chapter…probably more than you guys even. I still need tributes… (See previous chapter) In order to write the next chapter, I need a District 2 guy. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected…I try my best. Okay, enough babbling, onto the story!**

**I do not own the Hunger Games. I do own the basic story line though. Emerald Grace is from violetsinthesky, and Kotsuyo Koji is from Naomi Tachi. Mayor Garrick Kemp and the escort, Elitia Adema, were made by mAnGa ObSeSsEd PaNdA. Thanks for giving me characters for my Hunger Games!**

**Chapter 1: **District 1 Reaping

_Emerald Grace's POV_

I wake up, excited, knowing what day it is. Today is the day of the reaping.

Reaping Day has always been a competition in District One. You train for years in hopes of one day using your skills in the actual Games. Training was one thing, but actually killing is another. Of course, I hadn't had a chance to volunteer before. The people that volunteered were 17 or 18…that is if you wanted a chance in the Games. At last, I could volunteer. All I had to do was get my hand up before anyone else did which was easier said than done.

"Wake up!" my mom sings as she bursts into my room.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm already awake…" I say with a yawn.

"Well get out of bed! It's not every day you could get a chance to be in the Hunger Games!"

"Haha…you're right. I'll get ready as soon as possible…will you choose a dress for me?"

"Of course! Can I do your hair?"

"Sure, why not?"

I take a nice, hot shower, go into my room, and find the dress my mother laid out for me. It's a nice light purple sundress that had barely been worn. I'm confused. I've never seen that dress before.

"Mom, where'd you get the dress?" I ask.

"It was the dress I wore for the Reaping of the Hunger Games I won," she responds sentimentally. "I've kept it all these years in hope that I would have a daughter just like me."

"Are you sure you want me to wear something this valuable?" I ask.

"Of course, this is what I've kept it all these years for."

I smile. To think she put so much effort into something so important to me makes me happy.

"Now, we have to do your hair, and you want to meet Louis and Pearl before you go to the reaping right?"

"Right."

"Okay then, we don't have much time."

She goes to work on my hair while I sit in a chair for around an hour. When she's done, I'm astonished. Normally, I have my curly, auburn hair in a bun because it gets annoying, but every year, my mom shows me how beautiful it could be if I put some effort into it.

"Thanks Mom!" I exclaim as I give her a big hug.

"Don't mention it; now go grab some breakfast and meet your friends."

I run downstairs into the dining room where I'm greeted with a feast full of all my favorites like cinnamon rolls and French toast. My eyes light up as I dig into the mass of food in front of me. When I finish eating, I race outside and into the square where I see Louis and Pearl all dolled up.

"Hey, looking good," I comment.

"You don't look too shabby either," Pearl replies. "Where'd you get the dress? I don't think I've seen it before."

"It was the dress my mom wore during the reaping when she won the Hunger Games."

"That's cool. All my mom got me was a plain white t-shirt and some black slacks…nothing with a cool backstory or anything," Louis complains.

"Our outfits won't really matter if we get in the Games. Do you think you'll get in?" Pearl asks. "I don't think I can raise my hand fast enough!"

"Well my mom taught me how she volunteered, so maybe I have a shot at this…"

"Lucky! Will you share them with us?" Pearl asks.

"Nope, my lips are sealed."

"Ah, not fair…"

"You shouldn't volunteer…" Louis says.

"Why? I can now! I've trained since I was six! I can actually win this thing…"

"Yeah why shouldn't she?" Pearl asks.

"Um…I know you can, but you don't know what the other careers are like…they might not like you and kill you in your sleep or something…" he says with a worried look on his face.

"Louis, don't worry. I have mad assassin skills remember? Besides, there's no definite chance that I'll get picked right?"

"Right…" he mutters. "Just, be careful, okay?"

"Of course, I am Emerald Grace you know."

_Kotsuyo Koji's POV_

My eyes blink open to the sight of another day. I know it's Reaping Day, but I don't have much to worry about. A girl would be chosen; someone would volunteer. A guy would be chosen; someone would volunteer. It had been that way for as long as I could remember. If you didn't want to die, don't volunteer, obey the rules, and don't get in anybody's way. Life was as simple as that in District One, well usually. My brother was actually reaped one year, and nobody volunteered for him. It was a historic year, and the Capitol didn't know what to make of it. But this year is going to be the same as all the others.

"Kotsu…wake up," my sister, Sayuko, says.

"I am awake," I mutter.

"That's good," she says good-naturedly. "Breakfast is ready."

"Okay, I'll be down in a second."

I walk downstairs and am greeted with somewhat of a feast.

"What's all this?" I ask.

"Well, it's Reaping Day. Everyone around us is celebrating, so it feels like we should be too," Sayuko answers.

"But this isn't a celebration! We don't have the money or the same motivation the other families do. We shouldn't be indulging on things that don't even mat-"

"Uncle!" my six year old nephew, Rokei exclaims.

"Good morning Rokei," I say trying to put on a fake smile.

"Why are we having so much food?" my four year old niece, Nanami asks.

"It's Reaping Day. You didn't know that? School's been canceled and none of my friends will stop talking about it. They all get to go to this school where they get to train for the Games, but Mom won't let me," Rokei explains with a pout at the end.

"Well, I don't go to school…" Nanami mutters. "So…Reaping Day is…a holiday? Is that why we're celebrating? If that's it, I love Reaping Day!"

I sigh and take a seat at the crowded table.

"Here you go," Sayuko says as she passes out the bread.

"Bread? And we don't have to share?" Nanami asks curiously.

"And…is this butter? I've heard about it at school, but I didn't know it was real…" Rokei adds.

They both take a bite with instant signs of satisfaction. Even Katoru, my one year old nephew, is all smiles.

"Why can't everyday be Reaping Day?" Nanami sighs.

"It's a good thing it isn't…" I mutter.

"Darin, will you look for some nice clothes for the children?" Sayuko asks.

Darin, her husband, nods and goes to search through the trunk in the closet.

"Sayuko, can you talk with me in private," I ask.

"Sure," she responded as we go outside.

"Sayuko…why…why are you giving these kids a positive impression of the Games?"

"I…I want them to be able to live normal lives…though we aren't like everyone else here, I can't do that to them."

"But then, they'll end up volunteering and becoming like the rest of the psychotic kids in this district."

"You're right…but it is nice to celebrate once in a while," she says optimistically.

"Just not for Reaping Day okay?"

_Emerald Grace's POV_

It's finally one o'clock, the time I have been waiting for all my life. My friends and I walk into the part of the square where they hold the Reapings. Everyone is chatting with excitement, just like every year. There isn't anyone without a smile on their face. I head into the roped off area with all the other seventeen year old girls near the front of the square.

"It's gonna be me," I hear a girl in front of me brag. "I've been training with my brother who was a victor, my mom who was a victor, and my dad who was also a victor. I'm gonna get my hand up first, and I'm gonna win."

I roll my eyes. All of us had been training forever. What was so special about her? Her victor filled family? Like that would help her at all. The Games are different every year. No one could possibly know what to expect.

There are four chairs on that stage, one for the two victors that would be our mentors that year, one for the mayor, and one for our escort. The glass bowls sit lonely on the stage holding the names for the boys and girls. Nobody cares about them because the name called would soon be replaced.

Precisely at two o'clock, our mayor, Garrick Kemp, steps up to the podium and begins reading Panem's history. I usually zone out around this part because it's exactly the same every year.

Finally his speech ends with the same, "It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks."

At last, the attention is given to Elitia Adema, our escort. Her hair is dyed an icy blue this year and styled so that it's pinned to the side of her head in a loose curl. Her tight dress with a bubble skirt is similar in color and her sleeves show the stargazer lily tattoo on the upper part of her right arm.

"Happy Hunger Games…and may the odds be _ever _in your favor," she welcomes with a small fake smile as she says the unofficial catch phrase of the Games. You hear everyone say it during this time of year.

"The Hunger Games are a form of natural selection. Survival of the fittest. If you die, remember you are contributing to a better evolution of human beings," she says. "Now, the time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District One in the sixty-ninth annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first."

My heart starts beating so loudly, I'm sure my mom can hear it from the back of the square.

Elita's hand reaches into the glass bowl and pulls out a small sheet of paper.

"Andielle Cormac."

"I volunteer!" I exclaim stretching my hand up as high as I can.

I see many girls around me doing the same.

Elita goes off stage for a couple minutes to consult the footage that would show her who raised their hand first. Those couple minutes go by so slowly they feel like hours.

She comes back onto the stage and finally announces the female tribute for this year.

"Emerald Grace," she says plainly.

For a couple seconds, I'm in shock. I snap back to reality when I feel the peacekeepers leading me up to the stage. A smile spreads across my face as I take my place to the right of Elita. She continues with the Reaping by digging her hand the boys' bowl and pulling out another white slip.

"Kotsuyo Koji."

And then, there's dead silence.

_Kotsuyo Koji's POV_

I wait for the hands to raise up, the "I volunteers" to fill the air, but there's nothing but dead silence. For a few seconds, I'm speechless. There's no way this is real.

For once, Elita is forced to ask for volunteers. No one raises their hand, and my brother's impossible incident is repeated again.

The snickers from the guys around me bring me back to reality.

"How long do you think he'll last?" they whisper.

"I bet he'll be killed in the bloodbath in the beginning," one guy responds.

The peacekeepers come to bring me up to the stage, and I can tell Elita is also trying to figure out what happened.

Mayor Kemp comes forward to read The Treaty of Treason and when he finishes, motions for us to shake hands. I look up to see the face of my district partner and am surprised by what I see. She seems concerned rather than surprised or disappointed like Elita. The anthem plays, and we're guided into rooms in the Hall of Justice.

I sit alone in the room for a while trying to understand what happened. Is this what it feels like to live in an outlaying district, in constant fear of your name being drawn from the bowl?

My family interrupts my thoughts when they rush into the room. Sayuko runs towards me and wraps me in a hug. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, and her breathing is staggered and nervous.

"Why is Mommy crying?" Nanami asks.

"Nanami, please be quiet," Darin whispers.

"Sayuko, I'll be fine," I try to assure her.

"I-I n-need you to try to win. Y-you can't leave me," she pleads.

"I'll try," I say knowing that there's practically no hope for me.

"Thank you," she whispers as she gives me another hug.

"You have to win," Darin says. "Sayuko…she can't lose someone again. She's been through too much. Promise?"

I nod my head though the odds are not in my favor.

"Good," he says. "Here, I thought you might want this."

Darin takes a gold chain with a fake emerald out from his pocket.

"It was on your nightstand, and I assume it's really important to you. Thought you might want it as your token."

"Thank you," I respond quietly.

He fastens the chain around my neck, and I hold it tightly as if it's my own lifeline.

"Time's up," a peacekeeper says gruffly.

Sayuko gives me one last hug as he pulls us apart. The door closes, and I'm visited by no other people, which is no surprise.

We're driven a short distance to the train. When we step out, we are swarmed with cameras. At last, they've seen us enough, and we're allowed onto the train.

**All done! Sorry it took so long! Again, I need a guy for District 2 to start the next chapter. See you next time!**


	4. District 2 Reaping

**Hey! Sorry that this is so late. Like, I've just been so distracted and lazy and…yeah I don't really have any excuses. I can't believe how soon after I posted the first chapter that I got tributes! Thanks again to the people that submitted! I hope you guys enjoy the story. **

**I don't own the Hunger Games. They were made by Suzanne Collins. Richard Pince was made by Lil Killer16 and Kat was made by Kittyswirl (guest) and because some information was missing, mAnGa ObSeSsEd PaNdA helped me fill it in. Thanks guys!**

**Chapter 2: **District 2 Reaping

_Kat's POV_

I sit up as soon as I open my eyes. There couldn't be a day I was more excited for. I savor this moment of bliss until my little sister, Lily, rushes into the room and jumps onto my bed.

"Wake up, wake up!" she hollers.

"I am awake, you little idiot!" I scream with in an irritated voice.

"Well hurry up! We're not gonna wait for you forever!" She runs out of my room and downstairs to where we have our meals.

I get out of my bed slowly just to spite her and make my way downstairs to find my family clearing the table.

"Hey…where's my food?"

"You took too long, so we ate without you," Lily sneers.

I shoot her my best death glare. Too bad she's not eligible for the Hunger Games yet. I'd kill her first.

"But Mom…last night, Lily kept me up all night with her (tone-deaf) singing. I couldn't _possibly _wake up on time."

"Well then, Lily, go get your sister some pastries from the bakery."

"But Mom-"

"No buts! Now go before I change my mind about the vermin living in your room."

"He's not vermin! He's an adorable little mouse! You can't make me through him out! He'll starve!" Lily cries.

"Hurry up! Your sister needs energy for the reaping!" my mom exclaims.

"Sit," Mom says with a smile. "I'll make you some blueberry waffles while you wait."

My mom can be really forceful sometimes, but most of the time, she's a total pushover.

After a while, Lily returns with an aggravated look on her face. She throws a white paper bag at my face with a warm apple strudel inside and storms upstairs.

When my mom finally brings me my waffles, I dig in, happy that I woke up late.

My happiness is short-lived. My mom forces me into an ugly yellow collared dress for the reaping. Luckily, I escape before she puts the matching bow in my hair.

"Well you look…interesting," Tony says with a smirk on his face.

"Shut up…" I mutter.

"I think you look cute," my best friend, Chloe, says.

"I look like a freaking seven year old!" I exclaim while enviously looking at her chiffon purple summer dress.

"No you don't…" Alison argues.

"Yeah, she's right! You look more like a…four year old," Dylan snickers.

"Be quiet. You're not looking so hot either."

Dylan's cheeks turn a light shade of pink and turns away, staring at his second-hand brown loafers.

"So you gonna volunteer?" Chloe asks.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?" I scoff. "I have been ever since I was eligible! My hand just isn't fast enough."

"But you wouldn't have a prayer of joining the careers as a little kid. You'd be as good as dead," Mason states plainly.

I shoot him a piercing death glare, but my face softens after a while because as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. As soon as I realize this, I shoot him another death glare for being such a stupid know-it-all.

"Well, I know I'm ready now," I brag. "Chloe and Alison have seen me, haven't you?"

"Yeah, we've all seen you," Tony says. "Your knife skills are okay, but is that really going to make you a victor? I mean you have to be able to do a bit more than throw around a silly knife."

"I can do more than throw around a silly knife! I'm fast and I can throw spears and-"

"Yeah yeah, save it for the Gamemakers," Dylan mutters.

"You watch. I'm gonna have my hand up first and I'm gonna get a high score and I'm gonna win the freaking Hunger Games!"

"Good luck with that," Tony says as he and the boys walk off into the crowd of people already filling the square.

"Don't listen to them," Chloe says. "They're just being a bunch of stupid boys. I know you can do all of those things."

I smile. She always says the right thing at the right time.

"So who do you think the male tribute is gonna be?" Alison asks.

"Hmm…Tony has a pretty good chance. I mean he's pretty fast." I comment.

"What about that Richard Pince guy? He looks like he was built for the Hunger Games! 6'4", 190 pounds, top of his class, muscular, a fohalk full of blonde hair, blue eyes, and to top it all off, a scar that reaches from his eye to his jawline. Can you imagine a dreamier guy?" Chloe says wistfully.

Alison and I laugh awkwardly at Chloe's stalker-like knowledge of this Richard guy.

"Shall we find a spot?" Alison asks breaking the tension.

"Let's go."

_Richard Pince's POV_

I wake up to the loud screams of my best friend, Jimmy.

"Wake up! Wake up! It's Reaping Day!" he hollers as he jumps on my bed.

"Shut up!" I yell as I push him off of the bed and pull my pillow over my head.

He hits the ground with a loud thud but quickly gets back up and results to stripping me of my sheets and pillow and shaking me back and forth.

"Cut me some slack. I couldn't sleep last night…" I mutter covering my ears and burying myself in my mattress.

"Get up Richard!" my father sings as he bursts into my room.

"Ugh, not you too," I mumble.

"You need a good breakfast for today's reaping!" he continues.

"And sleep…" I say hopefully.

"Hey Mr. Pince," I hear Jimmy whisper. "On three."

"One. Two…"

As soon as I hear, "THREE!" I'm forced off my bed and thrown onto the cold hard floor.

"What was _that_ for?" I demand.

"Like your dad said, you need a good breakfast!"

"Okay fine. I'm awake. Now can you stop lecturing me?"

I walk downstairs and see an extravagant breakfast laid out in front of me.

"Mom, I didn't think you cared about the Hunger Game-"

"I don't," she said shortly.

"It was me," my dad answers.

I take a closer look at what it is: raw eggs, beef, tuna, cheese, plain yogurt, protein shakes, and milk, none of which are breakfast foods.

"Yum…" I mutter.

"You need energy!" he says heartily.

"Bon appetite?" my younger brother, Jace, says questionably.

My mom and Jace pick around, trying to find whatever's edible, but I'm not so lucky. My dad forces me to drink the food blended together as a protein shake. He even makes me go as far as licking the cup clean.

"I'm going to find a baggy shirt that'll be easy for you to volunteer in," he sings.

I sigh. My dad's way too obsessed with the Games for even the most dedicated career. But thanks to him, I'm the top of my class and the best tribute in Panem.

"Are you going to volunteer this year?" my mom asks quietly.

"Of course," I answer nonchalantly. "Why?"

"I'm worried about you," she replies.

"Why? I'm the top of my class. Have you seen me with a sword and any weapon for that matter? No one can beat me! So why are you worried about me?"

"I'm you mother! Why wouldn't I be worried about you?" she argues.

"None of the other moms are worried about their kids," I reply. "They're cheering them on and are…are being more like Dad! Why can't you be like him?"

"I thought I raised you better than this," she mutters.

My mom turns away with a disappointed look in her eyes.

The next few minutes are filled with awkward silence until my dad comes back with one of his polo shirts.

"Ah…perfect!" he exclaims as he slips the shirt over me.

His shirt hangs over my knees, and I almost trip over it as I try to walk.

"What am I going to wear?" Jace asks hopefully.

"You can wear one of Richard's old shirts," my dad answers simply.

My old shirt is almost as big on him as my dad's shirt is on me.

"Oh…" he says with a disappointed look on his face.

It's obvious that I'm my dad's favorite son; maybe because I'm the top of my class or just because I'm older. But Jace gets everything from me second-hand.

He shows me a small smile as soon as he notices I'm looking at him.

"Don't worry. I'm fine," he assures me.

I give him a small nod and head out the door.

"Hey who do you think will be the girl tribute?" Jimmy asks me.

"Um…I don't really know. I mean, there aren't any obvious choices."

"What about me?"

We turn our heads to see Frances in a pale pink collared dress. Jimmy and I burst out laughing so much to the point where our stomachs ache and tears are coming out of our eyes.

"What?" she asks angrily.

"I-it's so not you!" Jimmy gasps between breaths.

"It was my older sister's thank you very much. Money's of kind of tight you know."

"Your sister didn't have anything else?" he asks trying but failing to stifle his laughter.

"She did but- stop laughing already!" she exclaims.

"I did," Jimmy says suppressing a grin.

"Thank you. Anyway, do you think I have a chance, you know to become a tribute?"

"Yeah, your arm is pretty fast," I say. "You definitely have a chance."

Jimmy bursts out laughing again.

"Sorry…can't…stop…"

"Shut up!" Frances exclaims as she punches him in the face.

Jimmy gets up quickly though his cheek is bright red and blood is dripping from his nose.

"Ow…well if you can volunteer as hard as you can punch, you'll have a good chance."

"Thank you. Now can we head over to the square, without any more remarks about my dress?"

"No promises," Jimmy says through a cheesy grin.

_Kat's POV_

My friends and I find our spot right behind the seventeen year old girls. Most of District Two is already there even though we're an hour early.

It feels more and more claustrophobic in here by the minute. By two o'clock, I feel like a sardine packed in a can.

Our mayor, escort, and two mentors walk onto the stage, and the Reaping begins.

"Welcome to District Two's sixty-ninth annual reaping," Aliaga Fiedlerson, our mayor reads. "Panem, Panem was the country that rose out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. The land was destroyed by droughts, storms, fires, encroaching seas, and to top it all off, a brutal war for what was left."

Nobody in District Two likes her. She's not at all District Two material. She's sweet, nice, and extremely annoying. You'd expect the mayor of the best career district to at least be something like us.

"The Captiol as well as thirteen districts emerged from the ashes and became what we all know as Panem. All was peaceful and prosperous, but then came the Dark Days. The thirteen districts rebelled from the Capitol that loved them, but in the end, the Capitol emerged victorious. Twelve were defeated. One obliterated, and as an annual reminder to those who rebelled and a reminder that those Dark Days must never be repeated, we were given the Hunger Games. Now, is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," she finishes.

She reads the list of the victors from our district which is so long, it reaches the floor. I hope this year my name will be added to it.

Wilsa Wickliff, our escort, walks up to the podium with her head held high and her stomach compressed passed its limit in her tight corset.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she sings. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

"Kindly remember that anything short of winning means death, but if you win, you will bring honor to your district and be bathed in riches your entire life." She becomes uncharacteristically serious and shows a sly smile at the end.

"Now, the time has come for the tribute from District Two to be selected," she says back in her usual bubbly tone. "As usual, ladies first."

I can see out of the corner of my eye hands slowly raising just low enough not to be seen. I smirk. Everyone knows that in order to be chosen, you have to be the first hand up with your arms relaxed at your sides. I return my attention to Wilsa whose hand is reaching into the glass ball for a name.

She unfolds the paper slowly just to spite us and finally reads the name.

"Lyssa Wyvern."

"I volunteer!" I shriek holding my hand up as high as I can hand standing on my toes. But out of the corner of my eye, I see Alison had her hand up a millisecond before me.

Wilsa leaves the stage for a minute to see who got their hand up first.

"You're gonna be this year's tribute," I mutter grumpily.

"How do you kno-"

"You were the first one with your hand up, and you had your arms at your sides," I explain. "Stupid reflexes…"

She tries to hide her obviously happy face, but she's never been good at masking her emotions. I try to convince myself that I'm not disappointed. I'm sixteen and still young. I can get in next year or the year after that…

Wilsa comes back onto the stage with a new white slip of paper in her hand.

"Katarina Schmearnoff," she reads.

_Richard's POV_

For a while, the air is silent. Apparently, this "Katarina" girl has second thoughts on volunteering or doesn't recognize her name or something. Honestly, it's these people that give District Two a bad name.

"Kat that's you!" a girl in the sixteen year old section shrieks.

It takes a few seconds, but Katarina finally steps forward, but in a slow dreamy sort of way. As soon as she's close enough, Wilsa snatches her shoulders and hurries her onto the stage. She heaves a sigh of relief and announces, "Now, for the boys."

She takes her time shuffling her hand through the bowl and finally takes a name out of the bowl. I think about how much it'd suck to be the name on that slip of paper. They say that career district don't care about the names on the slips of paper, but we do. You can't volunteer for yourself right?

"Ian Adodack."

"I volunteer!" I scream.

My hand waves back and forth; uncharacteristically frantic.

Again, Wilsa leaves the stage for what seems like an eternity, which it always does, but this time it actually seems longer. Conversations spring up all around us and pretty soon, what was dead silence is now an uproar.

"What do you think it taking so long?" Jimmy asks.

"I don't know. But I hope she comes back soon. I don't think I can wait any longer."

"I know right. I feel like I'm-"

"I'm sorry 'bout that," Wilsa apologizes pleasantly. "We had some 'erm technical difficulties."

Technical difficulties? What kind of technical difficulties would they have-

"Richard Pince."

I freeze. Is this actually happening?

"Richard Pince," Wlisa repeats impatiently.

I quickly come out of my spot in the crowd and walk towards the stage where Wilsa is frowning faintly and muttering something about this year's tributes being "an embarrassment".

"There you have it; this year's tributes from District Two!" Wilma says gleefully.

Aliaga glides up to the podium to read the Treaty of Treason and after, tells Kat and I to shake hands. The anthem plays and we're guided into separate rooms where we can say our good-byes.

Jimmy and Frances come in first.

"Hey man! Good job!" Jimmy exclaims. "I knew that breakfast did you some good!"

"Ahahahahaha…right…"

"Hey, do you have a strategy yet?" Frances asks.

"Of course! Show off my skills, get a high score, join the other careers, when the competition wears down, kill the competition, and win the Hunger Games!"

"Easier said than done…" Frances mutters.

"Do you doubt me?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"Well anyway, good luck. Just do your best, and you'll be fine," Jimmy interrupts hoping to break the tension.

"Yeah good luck," Frances says.

"Two minutes," the peacekeeper utters.

"'kay," Jimmy says waving goodbye. "Next time I see you, we'll be chilling in Victor's Village."

My family comes in after. Their expressions couldn't be more different. My dad wears an ecstatic smile that's so bright, the Sun might even be jealous. My mom's face is cold and her disappointment is as plain as day. Jace is somewhere in the middle as his face is somewhat grim, but he's still smiling.

"Good job, son!" my dad exclaims. "I knew you could do it. Now remember, don't step of the plat-"

"Um Dad, we don't have all day…"

"Right, sorry Son! But I want you to remember, the plat-"

"Good job older bro," Jace says with a small smile. "I know you'll do fine, just…don't do anything reckless 'kay?"

I nod my head, and my mom's frown from earlier softens as she comes forward.

"You know I don't want you out there…but just know that I'll always support you know matter what you choose," she grins. "Will you use this as your token?"

She holds out a gold coin on a necklace, and I nod my head slowly. She stands on her toes to slip it over my head.

"Two minutes," the peacekeeper says again.

"Remember!" my dad exclaims. "You need to be fast, but-"

The peacekeeper drags Dad out of the room and closes the door on him.

Wilsa escorts us to a car which drives us to the train station. Hoards of cameras and people fill the station, and it's more claustrophobic here than it was during the Reaping. Eventually, we push through the crowd and step onto the train. I hurry to a window and watch as it pulls us away from the crowd.

**Again, sorry it took so long. I'm already starting to work on the District 3 Reaping, so hopefully, it won't take too long. Thanks for reading! **


End file.
